


The Black Widow Never Cries

by Cocoa_N_Donuts



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-27
Updated: 2017-12-27
Packaged: 2019-02-22 15:31:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13169850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cocoa_N_Donuts/pseuds/Cocoa_N_Donuts
Summary: She wonders how many other lives she’d ruined while staining her ledger—as Loki had said—dripping red.Turning her attention inwards, she looks at her hands, her newly cleaned hands with just the odd callus here and there, and she sees hands that are irreversibly stained with blood, death, and lies. Like her ledger, it’s dripping with red.





	The Black Widow Never Cries

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheTruthAboutLove](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheTruthAboutLove/gifts).



> Written and gifted on Christmas to my wonderful friend, [TheTruthAboutLove](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheTruthAboutLove/pseuds/TheTruthAboutLove) check out her work if you hadn't already-- they're just as amazing as she is. 
> 
> Also, many thanks to the amazing [Offbrand_Valk,](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Offbrand_Valk/pseuds/Offbrand_Valk) who was kind enough to edit my work. 
> 
> It has been cross posted on Tumblr so don't worry if you see the same work on there floating around.
> 
> Thank you both lots!

Natasha perches by the window, watching the snow as it drifts around the people in the open, blanketing the untouched areas of the ground, on window sills, on cars and any other surface with its peaceful purity. She watches the people in the streets below her apartment as they went about their business, huddled against the cold.

The holiday season never failed to bring out a sense of melancholy in Natasha.

Because as the holidays roll around, she always wonders how many other people would still be able to walk the streets if not for her actions. She wonders how many children were now without their parents to teach them the many traditions that comes with the season. She wondered how many other lives she’d ruined while staining her ledger—as Loki had said—dripping red.

Turning her attention inwards, she looks at her hands, her newly cleaned hands with just the odd callus here and there, and she sees hands that are irreversibly stained with blood, death, and lies. Like her ledger, it’s dripping with red.

She wonders how many others will die in the future by her hands: how many families she will tear apart with her widow’s bites, with the hands that are so well trained in the art of death.

Just like how her own family was torn apart by the Red Room.

The Black Widow never cries, but Natasha Romanoff is embarrassingly close.

A dark figure blocks the light from her house, and another hand enters her line of sight, grasps one of her outstretched palms.

She looks up, meets Maria’s gentle smile. Maria takes a seat right next to her, takes both of Natasha’s hands into her lap.

“I love your hands, Nat,”

Natasha smirks, throwing on a mask to hide her emotions, “Of course you do, especially last night, when they were knuckle dee—“

“They protect.” Maria cuts her off, “Ever since you’ve entered SHIELD, your hands have done nothing but protect. The innocents, the guilty, the ones you love… you have protected them all.” Maria’s eyes were sincere, beseeching Natasha to understand, to follow.

Natasha meets her gaze, “But they have also killed,” Her voice catches on the last word, “They’ve taken away so many lives, they’ve torn apart so many families and—my ledger—“Her voice trails off, eyes breaking contact with Maria’s.

Maria takes Natasha’s hands in one of her own, before using the other to draw her lover into a hug.

“Your ledger is bound to the Red Room. The red is all theirs. Ever since you defected, you haven’t taken the life of a single innocent. There wasn’t one death on you that didn’t save the lives of millions others. The people you see on the streets? So many of them owe their lives to you,” Maria withdraws, tips Nat’s head up with a light finger on her chin, and presses her forehead to Natasha’s, “Nat, I owe my life to you. Do you really think I would have survived if you didn’t stop all those alien invasions? Do you know how safe you’ve made me feel just by holding me close to you?”

Natasha chokes on her tears, but all she sees is the kindness, love, and awe in Maria’s eyes. She takes the chance to nuzzle into Maria’s neck, quietly crying at the immensity of the moment, before there was a slight, gentle tug on one of her hands.

Looking down, she sees a familiar black cat—her cat, pawing at her hand. The moment Liho got what she wants— Natasha’s attention and palm— she headbutts her owner’s hand tenderly, purring affectionately at the hand that had always fed, groomed, and patted her so gently.

Natasha chuckles at Liho’s antics, before scratching Liho under her chin. Maria looks up at the sound, catches sight of the black cat and her owner, and laces her fingers with Natasha’s free hand.

“See? Even Liho agrees with me.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you've enjoyed this little piece! Let me know what you thought of it? :)


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